


Only Fools Believe In Coincidence

by Lenore



Category: Minority Report (TV 2015)
Genre: F/M, Fake/Pretend Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-18
Updated: 2016-12-18
Packaged: 2018-09-09 10:48:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,928
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8887954
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lenore/pseuds/Lenore
Summary: With Agatha's milk bath visions growing worse, Arthur gets closer to Lara to see what he can find out.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [subjunctive](https://archiveofourown.org/users/subjunctive/gifts).



It's unreasonably early, at least by Arthur's standards, the sun just slipped above the horizon, and he has far better ways to spend the uncivilized hours of the morning than lurking around police headquarters. Not to mention that entangling himself with law enforcement is never at the top of his list of things to do. But Agatha's visions keep coming, each one clearer and more alarming than the last, and her calls demanding that he do something are growing more insistent by the day. 

So here he is. 

Vega emerges from the building at long last, coming off a night shift spent breaking up an extortion ring, or trying to anyway. Even off duty and presumably exhausted, Vega moves at a purposeful clip, head up, shoulders squared, a woman on a single-minded mission to stop crime and save innocents. If Arthur were a different person—someone more like Dash—he'd admire her sense of resolve, but he is himself. Her resolve is simply a convenient button to push.

He steps out of the doorway and into her path. "Detective Vega. Imagine running into you here."

Vega stops. This close, Arthur can see how tired she is. "You mean, right outside where I work? If you're looking for Dash, he went to visit Agatha. But then, you knew that, right?"

Agatha's plan, such as it was, involved luring Dash away on some pretext, so Arthur could take the opportunity to get closer to Vega and see what he could find out. He can't imagine what story Agatha served up to pry Dash away from the city, and he has no intention of asking her. 

"I was looking for you actually," he tells Vega, with a smile that most women find charming. Intriguing at the very least.

The only effect it has on Vega is to make her sigh tiredly. "I've had a long night, Arthur. I'm not in the mood for games."

"How about a deal? Are you in the mood for that?" He pulls a card from his pocket, holding it up between his fingers. That gets her attention. "I understand your sting tonight failed to uncover the extortion ring's leader."

She stares at the card, an acquisitive glint in her eyes. "What do you want?"

"There's an event I plan to attend. I need a date." 

Her expression of sheer and utter incomprehension makes him grin.

"Are you that hard up for company?" she asks.

He shrugs. "My usual companions wouldn't fit in. It's the social event of the season."

Vega doesn't appear remotely impressed. "What's the real reason you want me there?"

"Let's just say I could use someone to watch my back."

Her mouth pulls into a flat line. "I'm not doing anything illegal."

"Just wear something that should be." He waves the card in enticement.

Vega snatches it from his hand. "One hour. That's it."

"Deal. I'll pick you up at eight."

"You think I'm going to tell you where I live?"

"You think I can't find out on my own?" He winks. "See you tomorrow."

***

Arthur was not kidding when he told Vega that this party is the most sought-after invitation of the season. Every year, the social register's cutthroat hosts and hostesses vie with one another for the honor of throwing the Beaux Arts Ball, a benefit for the city's cultural institutions. This year's lucky winner was Tricia Denton, the well-heeled wife of PrismaTech CEO Davis Denton. 

Vega glances curiously around the glittering ballroom that takes up an entire floor of the Dentons' townhouse. The place is packed wall to wall with everyone who is anyone and quite a few nobodies who harbor ambitions of becoming somebodies. There are enough jewels and precious metals on display to put a dent in the national debt. 

"How exactly did you get an invitation to this?" Vega asks. 

"Are you suggesting I'm not a true friend of the arts?"

"Seriously," Vega persists.

"You'd be surprised how many friends I have in high places." He nods his head in the direction of Davis Denton. "There's our host now. Let's go say hello."

Denton smiles politely as Arthur shakes his hand. "It's good to see you again, Davis. Wonderful party. Have you met my date? Lara Vega." He adds, in a confidential tone, "Of the Palm Springs Vegas."

Davis Denton didn't become CEO of the world's largest tech company without the political savvy to pretend to remember someone who might prove to be important. "Oh, yes, hello. So glad you could come." He turns to shake hands with Vega. "It's a pleasure. Will you be staying in the city long?"

Vega plays her part and smiles charmingly. "For the foreseeable future, actually."

"I hope we'll see a lot of you. Have you met my wife, Tricia?" Denton beckons her over and excuses himself to go say hello to the mayor.

Tricia offers Lara a quick, false smile and does her best to monopolize Arthur's attention. "It's been too long. I don't even recall the last time we saw each other."

From the way her pupils dilate, it's clear that she remembers in perfect detail: a lazy morning spent in Arthur's bed going for a second round of the very athletic sex they'd had the night before. It might have progressed to round three if she hadn't misinterpreted his very polite request that she copy certain top-secret PrismaTech files for him as a veiled blackmail threat. 

"I've been a little busy," he tells her and slips an arm around Vega's shoulders. "Champagne?" 

He whisks Vega off in the direction of the bar, leaving Tricia to stare after them venomously. Everyone has a button that can be pushed; Tricia's is most definitely jealousy. Vega plays along and doesn't shrug off his arm, which is far more cooperation than he expected from her, frankly.

"Your friend in high places is trying to murder me with her eyes," she observes.

"It's her party, but everyone is watching you." This isn't idle flattery. The simple black sheath Vega is wearing is flawlessly elegant. The way it hugs her curves has every man in the room following her with his eyes. She looks as effortlessly in command here as he imagines she does when she's out hunting down criminals. 

Vega studies him closely. "You wanted to make that woman jealous. What's your angle?"

She's also far too keenly observant for Arthur's own good. "Dance?" He holds out his hand. 

From Vega's expression, it's clear she sees right through this blatant attempt to change the subject, but she takes his hand and lets him lead her out onto the dance floor. The music is sultry and brassy, some oldie that Arthur can't quite place. He reels Vega in, slipping an arm around her waist. She moves lightly in time with the music, in time with him. This close, he can catch the scent of her perfume, light and citrusy, and feel the warmth of her body through the delicate fabric of her dress. It's closer than he's ever wanted to be to a cop. He ignores the voice in his head that suggests he wouldn't mind being even closer.

It's time to get down to business. One of the items of business he has planned for this evening, anyway. 

"I could ask you the same question, you know. About what your angle is."

It takes Vega a moment to parse his meaning. "Is that why you wanted me here tonight? To ask me about my intentions toward your brother?"

"Do you have intentions?"

She tilts her head. "Is that an accusation?"

"Why?" He leans in. "Do you have a guilty conscience?"

"Dash chose to get involved even before he met me. He wants to help people."

"My brother's altruism has worked out pretty well for you. Highest close rate in the precinct, isn't it?"

Her eyes flash indignantly. "It's not about that, and you know it. Dash thinks it's worth the risk."

"But Dash isn't only risking himself, is he?"

Vega pulls away. "So that's what this is about. You're looking out for yourself. As usual." She pivots on her heel and takes off in the direction of the bar. 

It's rare that anyone actually manages to get under Arthur's skin, but Vega has the odd knack for it. Where does she get off calling him selfish? She has no idea what they went through, no idea the kind of danger she's putting them in. He considers chasing her down to tell her so. But there's that other item of business on his agenda, and Vega ditching him gives him the perfect opportunity to pursue it. 

Arthur slips through the crowd, finds his way along a series of corridors to a set of rarely used service stairs. It wasn't hard to find a member of the household staff willing to trade a detailed map of the home's interior for a few credits. The Dentons really should pay their help better. He heads up to the top floor where Davis Denton has turned what was originally a nursery into a home office. 

There's no modern security on the mahogany-inlaid door, no retinal scanner to contend with, no advanced biometrics to thwart. Arthur supposes they didn't want to ruin the vintage charm of the place. When he tries the door, it's not even locked. 

An enormous, intricately carved antique desk takes up one side of the room. On the other side, leather club chairs stand in front of a fireplace with an ornate marble mantel, a scene out of a gentleman's club from another century. Arthur considers going through the desk drawers just because he can, although that's not really the point. 

Before he has the chance, Vega slips into the room, because of course she was keeping an eye on him. That was exactly the point. "What did we say about doing anything illegal?"

"That you wouldn't?"

She glares. "Come on. We need to get out of here."

As if on cue, footsteps sound in the hall. "Will you listen to me for once? I saw them come up here." It's Tricia's voice.

Vega's gaze darts around the room, but she quickly realizes what Arthur already knows: there's no other way out. She hesitates just the briefest moment before striding over to him. 

"Why do I feel like you planned this?" She's standing close enough that he can feel her breath against his cheek.

"Who me?" he says innocently.

This earns Arthur a hard shove back against the desk, and then her body is pressed against his, her arms around his neck, her mouth on his. She kisses the way he imagines she goes about her job, in charge and determined, and very, very thorough. Arthur would not have predicted he'd find that hot—cops really aren't his thing—but apparently being manhandled by this one officer of the law can light a spark in him. He draws her closer, his hands brushing bare skin where the back of her dress dips down low. When he starts to kiss her back, she makes a little sighing noise against his lips. He knows how to be thorough too. 

It's almost a disappointment when the door creaks open, even though that was always the plan. Vega must hear it too, because she makes an even bigger show of it, pressing closer and tightening her arms around his neck, kissing more passionately. For just an instant, Arthur imagines what might happen next if they were somewhere else—if this were something else. Something real. The sound of a throat being cleared short-circuits that very dangerous thought.

Lara jumps back and manages to look endearingly sheepish. Arthur puts on an expression that's part startled and part annoyed at being interrupted. The latter isn't at all hard to fake.

Denton regards them with obvious amusement while Tricia looks furious enough to garrote Arthur with her strand of pearls.

"We were worried you'd gotten lost from the party," Denton says with easy charm.

"Uh, yeah." Arthur offers a wry smile. "Sorry about that."

"They shouldn't be up here," Tricia says shrilly. "Why are they up here?"

"It appears they were looking for some privacy," Denton's gaze travels appreciatively over Lara's body. "Very understandable." 

"We really are sorry." Lara presses herself to Arthur's side. "Maybe we should take this back to my place?" The look she fixes on him is scorching enough that he could almost believe—and he can't glance away. 

"Yes, let's go," he quickly agrees, winding his arm around her waist.

"Was it really necessary to make a scene like that?" He hears Denton say to Tricia after they've left the room. 

Lara stays close, keeping up appearances until they've made it back down the stairs. 

"What was that about?" she demands. 

"Nothing." When it's clear she won't accept that for an answer, he adds, "It doesn't matter. I didn't get what I came for."

What happens next isn't entirely a surprise. Lara grabs him by the arm, drags him into a deserted corridor, crowds him up against the wall, and frisks him with brisk efficiency. Arthur finds nothing about this strangely arousing. Nothing at all. 

Eventually Lara gives up. There is nothing to find, after all.

"Satisfied?" he asks.

"That you didn't steal anything? Yes. That you aren't up to something? No."

"You have a very suspicious mind, Detective Vega."

She rolls her eyes. "Come on. We're leaving."

There's a line at the cloakroom, and by the time they've retrieved their coats, Tricia has turned up. "A word," she says to Arthur and adds pointedly, "In private."

"Give us a minute," Arthur tells Vega. 

Tricia pulls him off to the side. "Fine. You win." She dips her hand into his jacket pocket, slipping him something that has just the right size and weight to be a data stick. "You have what you want. Now I get what I want." She jerks head in Vega's direction. "After tonight, I never see you with her again."

Arthur smiles winningly. "No problem."

It's not as if Tricia will see him either.

He rejoins Vega, who waits until they reach the privacy of the car before launching into an interrogation. "So, what was that back there?"

Arthur keeps his eyes on the road, although the car is driving itself. "Just a little garden-variety adultery. Nothing you haven't seen before."

"Why were you in the office?"

"To admire the architecture."

Vega goes quiet and stays that way for the rest of the ride. Arthur can practically feel her mind at work, sorting through what she knows, figuring the angles. 

At her house, the car comes to a stop. "So. Thank you for tonight."

She nods with a preoccupied look and starts to open the door. He thinks that will be that, but nothing is ever simple with her. "Was this whole thing some kind of test?" 

"I have no idea what you mean."

She regards him earnestly. "Because I know you think you can't trust me, that I'm putting Dash in danger, but I would do anything to keep him safe. To keep all of you safe."

"That's very reassuring." He means it to drip sarcasm, but the memory of how she felt in his arms gets tangled up in his head, and it's not nearly as scathing he'd like it to be.

Vega studies him. "I'll just have to prove it to you."

Arthur watches her head up the front walk and waits until she's inside. The kicker is: there's a part of him that would really like to believe her.

At home, the first thing he does is to pour a drink, something much stronger than the champagne served at the party. He closes himself up in his study and slots the data stick into the computer. Files load in a blur of information, and he freezes when a familiar triangular shape flashes across the screen. He pulls up that file, technical specs for a secret government project that Denton's company has been working on. It's the schematic that Arthur has dreaded finding. 

A call comes in, and Arthur carefully closes the file before answering. 

Agatha's face appears. "What did you find out?" 

"Vega claims to be on our side."

"Do you believe her?"

Arthur shrugs. She sounded sincere, but what are the chances that a police detective just happened to recruit Dash at the same time that the government was covertly designing a new milk bath prison for them? Only fools believe in coincidence. That has long been Arthur's philosophy. 

"We need to be very careful," Agatha says.

Arthur knows what she means: because Dash won't be.

"I'm keeping an eye on the situation."

After ending the call, he takes a moment to consider his next move. 

Vega sounds surprised when she answers. "I didn't think I'd hear from you again so soon."

"Did you mean what you said? About proving it to me?"

This clearly isn't what she's expecting him to say, and it takes her a moment to answer. "What did you have in mind?"

"Next Saturday."

"Another charity event?"

Arthur shakes his head. "Dinner. We can get to know each other. You can convince me this thing with Dash isn't going to blow up in all our faces."

Vega studies him carefully as she considers the offer. "Okay. Saturday. I'll pick you up this time."

"You think I want a cop knowing where I live?"

"You think I can't find out on my own?"

If Arthur is smiling as he ends the call, that's only a coincidence.


End file.
